Let it be.
The Razoreign…
A gothic savior of the Logic: Danger, and all Toxic Chambers
The Warstorm. A darker side of all the anger in father nature
Conquer vapors; developing a synchronized version of Dyons
Equalize your purpose like Zion - Evil lies to verses to bygones.
Feeble minds disturbing the cryon’s from the strangle of cells
The immaculate spell: “Lets dangle a bell for the rattle of hell”
Let my shady-craft pace make blood drip south Hades cascade
Onslaught of strikes slay nine ways with my wavy Wrathblade
Depicting ‘gorgeous gore’ - turning organs to morbid corridor’s
Let my clones absorb the skin that skeletons had wore before
A daily duty, my moan is chore misting with the cordage horde
Reign upon the corps of War, as we roar for the storm of swords.
Mouths open - crown hoping for scissors to cut parts of teeth
Desiring the sharpened speech, that’ll inspire the darkest beast
It’s tyranny-told; god awful with razors, bombarding the labor
Get locked on the carnaging cage or I’ll strong-arm on the Saber
Threats, terror, and words manipulating your every way of life
Many men have died for the follow of: steady, pace, and fight
Upon an angry cave at night; shining from a semi-wave of light
Humanity’s cruel. So with a stake & knife, let me save your life
From the insanity crises; shadowing as the damaging night shifts
Not the vanity sizes, more of the apex when Inhumanity rises
At world’s end - telescoping the dead as a conniving laser aims
Viewing the meteor shower, as it collides with The Razoreign
Another brute tale of honor, as it tears and boomshells your armor
The Legend and Fable told from the glare of my Fuel Cell Katana.
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